


The Bastard of Winterfell

by InnerWorkings94Imagines



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerWorkings94Imagines/pseuds/InnerWorkings94Imagines
Summary: No one knows where the child came from.  All they knew was that the Queen in the North kept him close and treated him like her own son.  Some whispered that he was her real son, the loudest were the voices from the Lords of the Six Kingdoms.  But King Bran the Broken refused to say if he was or wasn’t.“When it comes to my family, their secrets are their own.  Only when it is for the good of the Six Kingdoms will I utter the words not yet spoken.”It had been 10 long years since the Dragon Queen’s demise and the Separation of Kingdoms.  When the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch is tasked in a secret mission by the Hand of the King, Tyrion Lannister, to find out if the Boy is truly the next heir to the North, he comes to find himself back in the place he always longed to be as a child.  Face to face with the woman he has avoided since his banishment to the Crows.Takes place after Season 8. (AU or is it? *insert Evil Laugh*...It is)





	1. The First Raven

“Your Grace, a raven has arrived from the Southern King.”  Maester Wolkan handed a small scroll to Queen of the North Sansa Stark. 

 

“Thank you Maester Wolkan, that will be all.”  He disappeared faster than he had arrived. 

 

_ My Dear sister, _

_ The Winds are turning in the favor of our two kingdoms.  It brings new joy and prosperity. This I have seen no matter what trials lie ahead. I sense no new winters upon us, the long summer is about to begin.  _

_ King Bran, the Broken _

 

“Cryptic as always.”  Sansa muttered. Sighing, she walked over to her desk, to pen a reply back, knowing full well Bran will know what she is to write to him before he even gets it.  Her quill dancing across the raven’s scroll, a smile coming to her face, the moment she heard the wooden door squeak open and the floorboards screaming against the feet trying to sneak their way across the room.  Glancing up, she found the eyes of her Nephew, Ned Snow. 

 

“What is it little cub?”  She went back to writing. 

 

“Was that Uncle Bran?”  

 

“King Bran.”  She corrected him.  

 

“He’s your brother isn’t he?”  Sansa put down her pen, smiling at the little boy.  

 

“He is.  But he is also a King, just as I am a queen.”  

 

“That’s why I call you your Grace when other lords & ladies are around.”

 

“Correct.”  She leaned back in her chair, watching the wheels click in his mind.    

 

“But currently no one is here, so I don’t have to have to call him King Bran until other Lords and Ladies are around.” Opening her arms, little Ned ran around the desk, quickly jumping up on her lap.  

 

“Correct Little Cub.”  She held up him close, kissing his forehead.  She watched his face drop, looking at her writing.  

 

“I’m not Uncle Bran’s am I?”  

 

“No little cub.  Uncle Bran can no longer have children.  But you are our blood, there is no doubt in that.  And until your older I can’t make you a Stark. I fear what other lords & ladys might do to you.”  

 

“I’m almost ten this year.  Is that not a man yet?” 

“You don’t want to grow up to be a man just yet.  But when you do, you must be merciful to those who need it the most.  I have no heirs to speak of and see none in my future, all except you.”  She smiled sliding him off her lap. “Now, tell me whose lesson did you sneak out of?”  

 

“Archery.  I find it too boring.”  Sansa held out her hand, leaving her troubles and worries behind.  

 

“Why is it boring?”  

 

“The target is too easy to hit.”  Sansa walked him back to the court yard where his archery instructor, Meera Reed, was looking everywhere for him. 

 

“Little Prince!  Little Prince!” She was yelling.  “Little Ned, where are you hiding.”  

 

“You’re just as sneaky as someone else I know.”  She gave a soft laugh. Ned watched his adoptive mother’s amusement.  Not for the first time, he realized it never reached her eyes. No happiness ever reached her eyes, not in the time he has known her.  Only once, when he found a collar & leash in a room long forgotten. But even then, it disappeared with tears. 

 

“Mother, did I make you sad?”  Sansa bent down, ruffling his hair.  

 

“You could never.  Now go, before you kill Meera with worry.”  She watched him quickly run down the stairs, and spook the skilled woman.  She laughed, before telling him he can’t be doing that during the middle of lessons.  Ned looked up at her, his smile wide. Sansa gave a soft wave before heading back to her solar to finish writing her response.   

 

❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙

 

“Lord Commander, a raven from Kings Landing.”  One of his men, walked up to him as he gazed out North of the wall.  Ghost in view, as he usually was when Jon went to peer out. 

 

“Bran again?”  He asked, before seeing the seal of a lion.  “Tyrion.” He whispered. Opening it, he began to walk back to his corders.  The words screaming up at him. 

 

_ Lord Commander,  _

_ As you may know there is a boy in Winterfell that goes by the name of Ned Snow.  The Queen of the North teaches him and treats him like his is the next heir, yet refuses to give him the Stark name.  For the good of the Realm, we must find out the boys true Identity. You are to be sent to Winterfell for however long it takes.  Gendry, Lord of Storm's End will meet you in Wintertown. The Queen is being informed of your arrival.  _

_ Hand of the King, Lord Tyrion Lannister.  _

 

“Another Snow in Winterfell.”   He looks at his Steward, a young wilding who wished to be on this side of the wall.  His parents had passed in the Battle of Winterfell. “Bring me my Box.” He quickly ran out.  Jon sat back in his chair, wondering what Sansa was thinking. Not for the first time, the Queen of the North, had accepted the Wildings who wished to stay without any objection.  It was mostly the sick and the Elderly who wouldn’t have been able to survive the winters north of the wall again. The boy returned just as quickly as he had left. 

 

“Thank you, you can leave now.”  Jon still had trouble having a steward.  He took one only when Tormund had insisted on it.  Said if this one was going to kill him, it would be permanent.  His hand traced over the wooden box, the direwolf seal on the outside.  Lifting it, found unopened scrolls with the seal of the wolf over them. He never read them, he had a maester check to see if it pertains to any important information, but the ones that did not, were resealed and put in the box.  Jon found himself unable to read her handwriting without feeling the need to go to her. The last time he had saw his  sister cousin, he did the one thing he swore he would never do.  

 

He hurt her.  

 

In that moment, she asked for his forgiveness for telling Tyrion, and he couldn’t.  In some weird way, he loved Daenerys, the pain of killing her, still echoed through him to this day.  It wasn’t the same kind of pain, but it was still painful. She was his aunt, his last strand of family he had to the father he never knew.  Even if she herself never knew him. 

 

Pulling out the newest letter, he snapped the seal, rolling it out slowly.  His eyes began to water, seeing her hand writing. It hadn’t changed, since the last time he saw it.  It was still elegant, and formal, yet the words were sweet. 

 

_ Dear Lord Commander,  _

_ I assume you won’t read this one either.  Ned is growing strong and is interested in learning swordsmanship.  He wants to be like his Uncle Jon at the wall and be a leader. I thought it would bring you some peace.  He is starting to look like Robb. _

_ With Love,  _

_ Lady of Winterfell _

 

His hands traced the ending. All her formal letters ended with Queen of the North, but her familiar ones ended with Lady of Winterfell.  That’s how he knew it was never important news he must read. His Maester knew not to show him. It had been ten long years since he had seen her face, or close to it.  A knock came on his door, his hand closing on the box, hiding his shame and his longing from his men. 

 

“Come in.”  It was the boy again, holding a new scroll from a raven.  Opening it, he knew he had no choice in the matter at hand.   

 

_ Do as Tyrion Commands _

_ King Bran, the Broken _

 

Jon Snow was once again going to step foot in Winterfell.  

 

❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙

 

“A letter from Westeros.”  A tall gruff of a man handed her a small slip of paper.  She eyed the Raven that was eating from a dish. Sansa’s personal white Raven.  

 

_ He grows more and more like you everyday.  _

 

Sansa knew better than to write her name.  The correspondents between them were secret, only Bran would ever see them.  Burning the slip, she placed a hand on her stomach, wondering if she would feel the love that Sansa felt for him the instance he was born.  Catching herself, she turned around, knowing there was only place she needed to go. 

 

“Hoist the Anchor! Set sail for Westeros!  It’s time to see land again Boys!” They cheered, quickly moving around the ship.  


	2. Second Raven

Jon sat on his horse, waiting for the Lord of Storms End to appear.  He wondered, not for the first time, how the he had come to find being a lord.  The tales he heard from the men who were sent from the Stormlands that the Lord they have heard about was cold towards women and prefer to be amongst the Blacksmiths.  He had built his own forge, taken to a young peasant boy who he named his heir. Many say he fathered the boy, naming a bastard of his own as the next lord.  

 

The sound of a few horses came up behind him.  He thought he would find Gendry arriving like his father, with the fanfare and the many many soldiers, but he found himself coming face to face with three riders.  

 

“I thought you would be at least a little taller since the last time I saw you .”  Gendry smiled at him, the time hadn’t seem to aged him, as he felt aged himself.  

 

“I thought you would be a little bit fatter.” Jon retroted matching his smile.  Gendry rode his horse next to Jons. Both gazing at the Winterfell castle down below.  

 

“Has the Queen been informed of our arrival?”  Jon asked, Gendry shrugged his soldiers. 

 

“I mean, Lord Tyrion did say that we were expected, but I highly doubt he informed her who.  Also King Bran never tells anyone anything unless it’s in a message they can’t quite figure out.”  Gendry replied, giving a soft laugh. “But knowing you Starks for as long as I have, you are hard to shock.”  Jon’s smile died. His eyes falling back onto the Stone castle.  

 

“I’m not a Stark.”  

 

❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙

 

Sansa eyed little Ned up in the balcony with Meera right behind him.  She nodded for her to pull him inside, so that he will not be present when they arrive.  Tyrion had sent word shortly after Bran had, but had not specified who would be arriving.  From her many years in Kings Landing and knowing how Tyrion works as the Hand of the King, she understood to expect the unexpected.  The real reason for their coming, she could only guess was to see the boy. Protecting him was one of her sole purposes in life since his arrival ten years ago. 

 

The Queen of the North felt all the air leave her the moment his dark grey eyes met hers.  Sansa tried to keep her face as neutral as she could. Tears sprang to her eyes, this moment she had dreamed of.  Being reunited with even one person of her family in these long years made her heart soar and ache at once. He had sent Jon Snow to Winterfell.  Secretly and silently in her mind she cursed the dwarf in his plans.   

 

Jon took a few tentative steps forward with Gendry just behind him.  Sansa stood there her Direwolf crown a top of her head, her red hair flowing freely, her blue eyes hard as steel.  His mind race with words that he couldn’t bring himself to say. He didn’t know how to address her, she was after all, not his Queen, yet she was still Queen of the North.  

 

“Your grace.”  Gendry bowed. Jon followed, the words fumbling out of his own mouth.  

 

“Lord Tyrion said he had sent two trustworthy people with news of the south.  Who would of think that he sent two of our Heroes from the Long Night’s war?” Her voice was just as steely as her eyes.  Jon gave a soft smile.  

 

“I believe the Hand of the King thought I would be welcomed more than just an old Blacksmith from the south.”  

 

“So they sent a former King of the North?”  One of the Lords spoke. The angered lord bowed his head in shame the moment her eyes went towards him.  

 

“The former King of the North is of my family blood.  He is welcomed in our childhood home, always.” Her eyes turned towards Gendry.  “As is the Blacksmith that labored day in and day out to help provide weapons and to protect the people of the North from the Night King.”  She motioned for a stable boy to come and grab their horses. Stepping forward, she tentatively took Jon’s hands in hers. Jon watched her facial expressions, looking for any indication of any emotion.  “I have business to attend to, but we will dine alone tonight.” She smiled, before leaving the two in the courtyard. Gendry looked up at the balcony, wondering if he would see her, even if he knew it was impossible.  His eyes fell on a boy no bigger than she was when he had met her. His big grey eyes staring at the guests.  

 

“Is that the boy?”  He asked Jon. Jon looked up to see the young boy, quickly turn back and run into a room.  

 

“I believe it is.”  

 

❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙

 

Jon sat across from Sansa in her solar.  The Fire crackling, their meal over and done.  Very few words had been uttered since his arrival in her solar.  

 

“Hows Ghost?”  Sansa took a sip of her tea.  Her eyes on the fire instead of him. 

 

“Hes healthy as an old Direwolf could be.  I’m sorry I couldn’t bring him with me, I know how much you loved him.”  

 

“I wouldn’t want his heart to give out south of the Wall.  A Direwolf belongs as far North as it can go.” Sansa remembered her father speaking on how Lady was of the North.  

 

“The years have been kind to you.”  Jon gave a soft smile, trying to remember the woman he last saw on the docks.  

 

“You would know how truly unkind they have been if you bothered to read my letters.”  She mentioned. Placing the cup down, she stood up walking over to the window. The night sky was cold, yet the walls were warm from the water running through them.  

 

“Being Queen suits you.”  

 

“Does it? Why don’t you just ask the question you were sent to find out.”  

 

“Sansa.”  Jon stood, taking a few steps closer to her.  

 

“Don’t.  Don’t Sansa me.”  Her blue eyes meeting his.  “You are not King in the North nor are you my older brother.  Tyrion’s a smart man. Smart enough to know ways around Bran’s secrets.”  

 

“I came to visit my family.”  He finally argued. Sansa turned just in time to watch little Ned run through the dark courtyard, Meera chasing after him.  

 

“Hes grown so big.”  She whispered. “He reminds me Rickon when he was able to run.”  

 

“Sansa.  The Lords of the South want to know who will be King or Queen when you pass.  That is all.”  

 

“You and I have very different memories of the Lords of the South.”  Sansa defended herself. “I’m tired, I wish to speak on this more tomorrow.”  

 

“As you wish.”  Jon turned to leave, but Sansa reached out gripping his sleeve.  

 

“Part of me is happy to see you back at Winterfell.  Truly I am. As Long as there is a Stark in Winterfell, you will have a home here.  No matter how mad you make us.” Jon smiled, placing a soft hand on her cheek.  

 

“You will always be my family Sansa.”  Sansa sighed into his touch, wishing they could go back to the days of fighting against the Night King, before he went south.  When it was them versus the rest of the country.       

 

❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙ ❙❙❙❙❙

 

Gendry had wondered towards the archery section of Wintefell.  His eyes falling on a target, his mind wondering back to all those years ago.  Ayra practicing before the great battle. Always hitting the bullseye. It wasn’t like to her miss, which she never did.  His hand on top of the tagert, suddenly was shaken with an arrow filing directly in the middle. Turning he noticed an unsmiling boy, holding an arrow at him.  

 

“Why did you come?”  He asked, the bow pulled back.  Gendry held up his hands, in defense.  He felt his heart race, his eyes on the tip.  

 

“On orders of the King of the Six Kingdoms.”  

 

“But this is not the Six Kingdoms.  This is the North.” Gendry took a small step forward, his hands still raised.  

 

“True, but our two kingdoms are allies are they not?”  The Boy didn’t move.  

 

“What makes you think we are allies, if we were allies, wouldn’t that mean we are the seven Kingdoms?”  

 

“Maybe, or maybe two Kingdoms could rule side by side and be independent when it comes to farming, laboring, and other resources.”  The Boy lowered his arrow to the ground. Gendry recognized him as the kid from earlier. His grey eyes was just like hers. 

 

“Who are you?  I know the man in black is the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, but I don’t know you.”  

 

“Gendry Baratheon.  Lord of Storm's End.”  

 

“Mother said that you were the Blacksmith that made the weapons for war against the Night King.”  

 

“So you have heard of me?”  Gendry walked over, grabbing the arrow from his hands.  Ned began to jump up trying to reach it. “Good sturdy arrow. The Tip is a little blunt, from hours of practice and should be reforged or sharpened if you were trying to kill someone.”  He bumped the feathered end against Ned’s head. “Next time you aim an arrow at someone, make sure you are ready for the consequences.” He handed the weapon back, noticing a few men running towards the courtyard.  

 

Following the commotion, Gendry wandered out, his eyes on a hooded rider entering through the main gate.  The boy had come to stand just behind him, away from danger, yet not fully covered. His arrow placed in the bow ready to be pulled.  Sliding off the horse, Gendry took a step back. In ten years she hadn’t grown an inch, still the small stature and in men's clothes. Her Hood falling back to show her hair had grown long.  The braid falling against her shoulder, the scare above her right eye faded yet still ever present. Her eyes meeting his, dashing quickly to the boy behind him.  

“Arya?”  He whispered, a smile breaking over his face.  One he could never hold back looking at her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wanting for updates once a week. I'm a really slow writer. So sometimes I post once a week for a three then it could be three months. It all depends on whether or not I have time or I can be in the mindset to write.  
> Thank you all for reading! I'm glad you are enjoying my story!


	3. Third Raven

Arya stood next to her sister on the balcony overlooking the practice yard.  The two girls had aged since they last saw each other, but to Sansa, Arya will still be her little sister. 

 

“Is that some grey I see?”  Arya teased her. Her dark brown hair had some as well.  Grey to soon for the both of them, yet still there.  

 

“Ruling is hard and stressful.”  Sansa turned away from her sister, watching little Ned practice his archery once more.  Arya’s eyes fell on the boy.  

 

“Hes growing taller.”

 

“He grows more and more like you when you were that age.”  

 

“I hope not. I was a handful.  Almost nearly stopped Septa’s heart at least once or twice a day.”  Arya smiled. Remembering chasing after Bran and Rickon. “Hes a lot better than what I could have ever done.”  

 

“The cub wants to become a direwolf all too soon.  If that’s not a Stark trait I don’t know what is.” Sansa clutched the railing, her mind no longer looking towards the future, just the past haunting her. 

 

“Sansa your his mother.”  

 

“I was his mother because I had to become it.  He asks about you almost daily now.”  

 

“What do you tell him?”  

 

“The truth.  He has my blood, but I can’t keep lying to him.  He will know soon or later.” Sansa watched Jon approach the stairs.  His smile wide, seeing Arya after so long. “The truth always finds a way of coming out.”  She whispered to her sister before Jon could approach them.  

 

“Sister!”  He exclaimed, wrapping her into a hug.  Arya stiffened a little before melting into the contact.  The ten years away had not treated her as kindly as her brother would have hoped for.  

 

“Jon!  The wall seems to be keeping you fit still.”  

 

“Well we still have raiders and bandits up north.”  

 

“No signs of the return of Winters?”  Arya felt her stomach twist, the blue eyes she closed still haunt her dreams some nights.  

 

“I believe they have been erased for good his time.  At least we can all hope that.”  

 

“Hope is for the weak.”  Arya mumbled. They all turned to watch Ned hit the bullseye for what seemed like the hundredth time.  

 

“He’s good with Archery.”  

 

“Says he wants to be able to defeat any opponent before they even have a chance to come near.  Though he finds it boring.” Sansa explained. Meera looked up to them, seeing Sansa nod. “Studying is just as important.  If you will excuse me.” The two watch Little Ned give Meera his bow, his eyes falling onto Sansa.  

 

“Do I have to?”  He called.  

 

“You know better little cub.”  She teased. Ned gave her a look before stomping off to the library.  

 

“Doesn’t Maester Wolkan teach him?”  Arya called after her. Sansa turned giving her sister a smile.  

 

“We both know the only one smart enough to teach him here, is me.”  Jon took a few steps closer to her.  

 

“Sansa we still need to speak.”  

 

“Later.  I have things to do.  I’m sure Arya and yourself have some catching up to do.”  Sansa gave them one last look before making her way to the library.  

* * *

 

Arya entered the godswoods almost like walking back through time.  The snow had melted, the pond unfrozen, and the tree’s red leaves draped the face in it’s trunk just how it always had.  The last time she remembered seeing the tree like this was back when her father still was alive. When Ned Stark would sharpen Ice under the watchful gaze of the old gods.  Her mother kept to the new, yet she seemed to only know the one now. The God of death still haunts her, always waiting like a friend.  

She took slow long steps forward, her hand reaching out to the graze the man in the tree.  It was here she felt closer to her family then she did with them. The Starks and this godswoods seemed to always go hand and hand.  

 

“Arya?”  His voice echoed through her.  Her name ringing through her own ears, from a voice she longed to hear at least once more in her lifetime.  She turned to look at him. To her, he seemed to be the same blacksmith she left at Kings Landing after the vote for King.  Arya went to say something, anything but he held up his hands. 

 

“Wait.  I need to...I miss you.”  He took a step closer. “I’ve thought long and hard about what you told me here at Winterfell.  After I was made a Lord. You were right...about everything. As you always are, but that’s not the point.  The point is that you’re not a lady. You’ve never been. Ever since I’ve known you when you pretending, badly I might add, to be a boy, you were never a lady.  You were never meant to be in a castle, run a household, that was never in the cards for you. But I what I do know, after thinking about all these years, is that I love you.  There will never be another you in my life. No love that I have left would ever find anything to replace that for me. Theres no one else. Theres just...you.” He stood there taking in a deep breath.  His eyes darting to the ground, the words he had been dying to say for years fell right out. Arya walks over, placing a hand on his cheek, before kissing him. Their lips met for what he wanted to be ages, but just a few seconds.  

 

“Little Ned is our son.”  She whispered to him. Arya left Gendry standing there stunned at the revelation.  She didn’t know what to say to him, but the truth. Sansa was always right but everything.  The Truth would come out eventually.   

* * *

 

 

 

Jon entered into Sansa’s solar before she even knew someone was there.  Turning from the window, she looked startled to see him.  

 

“Jon why are-” 

 

“Look, you have been refusing to speak to me, to see me even.  The only reason I was brought here is because the Lords want to know if you plain to make Ned your heir apparent or pass it off to another house.  That is all. They know a Stark must always rule, but as far as anyone can see there is no other Starks.” Jon defends. The door shuts behind him.  Sansa wrapped her arms around herself.  

 

“I can’t answer you Jon.  Because I don’t know. A Stark must always be at the head of Winterfell but...Little Ned isn’t ready for it yet.  That is too great of Burden to put on a boy no older than Bran was when he fell.” 

 

“Sansa…”  Jon took a few steps closer to her.  He knew it pained her to see family suffer.  It always has. 

 

“I’ve received countless marriage proposals over the years, just so they would have a chance of taking my crown.”  

 

“You are the Queen of the North.  You have the means and the support in order to assure you your seat including keeping the Stark name.  But I don’t understand why you need another heir when Ned-”

 

“Isn’t mine.”  Sansa took in a deep breath, she felt the tears coming.  “He isn’t...he isn’t ours Jon.”  

 

“I just thought-” 

 

“I know what you thought.  It’s something I’ve always wanted to believe, but it’s true.  He’s Arya’s and Gendry’s son. Ten years ago, Arya snuck back to Winterfell six months after leaving.  She was heavily pregnant and wanted him to be raised in her home. He’s already the illegitimate son of a lord who doesn’t have an heir himself.  I like Gendry, hes a good man, but hes from the Six Kingdoms. Which makes it more complicated than I just passing on my crown.”  

 

“Who all knows about his parentage?”

 

“Myself, Bran of course, theres no hiding from him, & Arya.  Which I’m assuming she will be telling Gendry at some point.”  Jon closed the distance between them, pulling her into a hug.  

 

“Sansa why do you always burden yourself with everyone else's problems and worries?”

 

“In all these years, I sometimes let myself believe that Little Ned was ours.  He looks like a Stark should. Reminds me of Robb, of Arya. My family I no longer have.”  

 

“I’m sorry.”  He kissed the top of her head.  “I know I can’t be here anymore.”  

 

“Do you wish you could?”  

 

“All the bloody time.”  He smiled down at her. “Before I went South, there were moments I thought we could do this together.”  Sansa tilted her head up towards him. His kissed her forehead, then both her cheeks, a last one on her nose.  He hovered over her lips, but Sansa closed the gap. The kiss deepening with each second. A memory of them so long ago, before he went south, before everything changed.  A moment they would repeat, a moment they had held in their hearts for so long with only the two of them kept locked away from anyone else. 


	4. The Fourth Raven

Gendry found Arya in the same place he had found her the last time they were in Winterfell.  Her bow was in her quiver, ready to fire.  

 

“How could you keep something like this from me?”  He demanded from her. Arya let loose, hitting the target’s bullseye.  

 

“At the time, all I wanted was to be far away.  Sansa was going to take care of him, so there was no need.  She needed an heir, and I needed my freedom.” Arya’s voice seemed more cold and calculating then what she truly felt.  “It was as simple as that.”  

 

“How could you not tell me I had a son?”  He yelled at her.  

 

“You weren’t exactly trying to find me during that period time either.”  

 

“You broke my heart, what was I supposed to do?”  His voice was rising. Arya went to say something, but she caught the sight of Little Ned standing there.  His mouth wasn’t open, but she would recognize that look anywhere. Rickon used to get the same big eyed look, and deep breathing before he would get angry.  

 

“Ned?”  She questioned quietly.  The moment Gendry took a step toward him, he bolted faster then she could see.  “Sometimes you can be as stubborn and stupid as a bull.” She quipped at him, taking off.  She caught sight of him running out the front gate. Gendry not far behind her.

* * *

 

“You lost him?” Arya is unsure if she has ever heard Sansa sound this upset before.  Not since watching her father’s head be cut off, did Sansa’s anguish ring so true to Arya.  She began to pace in her robe, her hair undone, the long tangles of red, draping her. “How could you lose him?  You were trained by the faceless men, and you lost him?”  

 

“I don’t know these woods anymore.  He does.”  

 

“You grew up running in these woods!”  

 

“They’ve changed Sansa.”  Arya went to reach out to her sister, but she shook her off.  Jon entered the room, his sword on his hip. “I don’t know the woods like he does.  Not anymore.”  

 

“Sansa.”  Jon walked up to her.  She grabbed his hand, holding it tightly.  “We have everyone out looking for him. Meera is currently going to all his favorite hiding places, Gendry, Myself and Arya are going to join them.  We will find him.”  

 

“I can’t...I can’t lose him.  Not another one. Please…” She finally broke down.  Her tears welling up. 

 

“Sansa.  It’s best if you stay here.  If he comes back on his own, you’ll be the first one he will look for.”  Jon reasoned to her. She nodded, taking in a deep breath.  

 

“Please bring him back.”  Arya follows Jon out of the room.  

 

“We didn’t know he was there.”  Jon looked more upset then she could remember seeing him.  

 

“Clearly.  You know for being one of many faces, you certainly should have realized.”   

 

“Hes quick and quiet.  Gendry was loud and being-”  Jon turned on his heels. He gave a defeated sigh.  

 

“Arya. Sansa for the past ten years has only had him for family.  Bran hasn’t left Kings Landing once since taken the throne. I’ve been at castle black or walking our borders.  You’ve been sailing around and away as far West as you could go. The only one Sansa has had was the boy. Everyone else is gone or dead to her.  We left her here alone with the dead.” 

 

“Sansa wanted to rule.”  

 

“Sansa wanted her family.”  

 

“You think I don’t know that?  I write and she writes almost daily to me.” Arya defended.  “I will not be sorry for trying to find more to the world then anyone else has.  I understand how much Ned means to her. Which is why hes with her to begin with.  I couldn’t stay, I would have perished here long ago. This isn’t me Jon. What’s your excuse?”  She walked around him, heading to join the search party.  

 

* * *

 

Jon had searched and searched the woods.  There was only one place left he hadn’t looked at.  He’s been avoiding the tree they found the direwolf pups since he got here.  Brought back to many memories of a time long missed and wanting to be forgotten.  Taking a step down towards the creek. His gaze sweeping over the bankment yet finding no sign of him crossing.  Turning to leave, he saw a pair of grey eyes staring up at him, almost in the exact place he saw the red ones.  

 

“Hello there.”  He whispered, bending down to meet him face to face.  “You’re mother is worried sick over you.” Ned wiped his eyes, sniffling at Jon.  

 

“She’s not my mother.”  He put his head in his hands.  Jon had the thought, that this is probably what he looked like as a child, being grumpy and moody all the time.  He casted a smile towards him, trying to coax the boy out.  

 

“Whose there when your sick?  When you need lessons in school?  Who was the one who taught you right from wrong?  Played chess with you into the night? Taught you to read and write?”  

 

“My mother didn’t want me.”  He fired back at him. Jon reached out his hand, holding it still for him.  

 

“Come out and I’ll tell you story okay?”  Ned made his way from under the big roots of the trees.  He sat up on the dirt and grass next to Jon. “When I was born, my mother died giving birth to me.  My father, died on the battle field. People said he was kind and caring. Good to people, loved to sing and dance.  That he loved my mother truly. But I never met him. My real father, was your grandfather. He raised me. Taught me right from wrong.  He protected me, even when it caused great harm to his own love. He knew he was doing the right and honorable thing. Even it meant taking a stain on his own personal honor.  To him, I was his blood. To his wife, I was a reminder of a person she did not know. A person who for all accounts, was the reason my real father wasn’t honorable. He wasn’t my father, yet he was my true father.”  Jon wrapped an arm around the young boy, who wiped his cheeks once more. “Whose your mother?” He gave a soft smile.  

 

“The Queen of the North.”  

 

* * *

 

Jon rode in with Ned on the back of his horse.  The boy of ten quickly jumped off, running over to hug his mother.  Sansa held him tightly. Ned noticed his mothers hair was down and not up.  The long red locks draped them, while she cried into his head. Her robe a muddy mess down below.  Pulling away, she looked at him angry then what he has ever seen from her before.  

 

“What were you thinking!  You know how dangerous it is!  You know people want to hurt you!”  

 

“I’m sorry.”  Sansa pulled him closer to her again, crying into him.  “I’m sorry mother.” He hugged her back. Safe and home again.  


	5. The Fifth Raven

It took pleading from Ned to have his mother finally leave.  He had to promise up and down on all his ancestors that he wasn’t going to run off again before Sansa let him sleep in his own bed.  But sleep wasn’t coming to him. The events and news of the day was eating away at him. He never heard her come in, yet her face suddenly appeared above him.  Arya smiled at the boy, moving some hair away from his face.  

 

“You do look like me a little.”  She whispered. “The Grey eyes and such.  Just try to avoid my temper. It lead to many a fight when I was your age. Especially with Sansa.” 

 

“Why did you leave me?”  Arya shifted her weight on the bed, smiling at him.  

 

“I was never meant to be a mother.  It was a fluke accident, the thought of keeping you with me was too terrifying.  But Sansa...Sansa was always meant to be one. She knows how to care for them, how to love them.  She was always meant to be your mother. I felt it, the moment she held you, the look in her eyes.  I never felt like that. Not that I didn’t want to, I just...couldn’t. It’s not me.”  

 

“Did you love me?”  Arya wiped a tear from his face.  He never even knew he was crying.  

 

“It was only with love for your future and the life you could lead here, did I part with you.”  

 

* * *

 

 

“He’s my son!  You didn’t think I should know.”   Gendry threw away with all honors the moment he had a chance to speak to Sansa behind closed doors.  “Did you even know? Of course you did, you know everything!”

 

“Of course I knew.  It doesn’t take a genius to guess who was the one who got my sister with child!  The only person she had ever been with to my knowledged was you. By then she had sworn me to secrecy and I could do nothing about it.  It was to protect him and her. You know I would do anything for family.”

 

“I had a right.”  Gendry shook his head, gripping the back of the chair.  “I never knew who my father was until he was long dead and buried.  Murdered by the Lannisters, a King, a warrior. Someone I would have looked up.”  

 

“Robert Baratehon was many things when he was younger, but when I knew him, he was a drunk and philander.  You have turned out nothing like him Gendry. You are kind and caring. I know all about the orphans you take in, you help feed.  Storm's End has become a safe haven, a place were they can learn and become apprentices.”  

 

“My lady, hes...hes my own flesh and blood which is something I never thought I would have after your sister turned me down.”  

 

“I understand.”  Sansa watched him sink into a chair, his anger dissipating.  A certain sadness coming over him. “You know why you were sent here, correct?”      

 

“To find out who your next heir is.  If this bastard was to become the next King of the North.”  Sansa smiled, at him.  

 

“In order for him to become my successor, the next King of the North, something he has been raised to be.  Something I know he desperately wants. You would need to deny any claim to him. Deny any claim that he is yours, both in public and in private.”  Gendry stared at her long and hard, his chest rising and falling deeply.  

 

“You want me to deny my own son.”  

 

“If you want him to one day aspire to be something great.  Yes, Yes I do.”  

 

“You don’t know what you ask of me.”  He shook his head.  

 

“I know exactly what I ask of you.  You forget where I became a Queen. Who made me steel.”  The flash of blonde hair and icy blue eyes came to both their minds, a queen long dead, yet a lioness still.  There was a soft knock on the door. “Enter.” She commanded. Little Ned entered the room, followed by Jon. The ten year old boy looked  up at Gendry with his mothers grey eyes. Standing, Gendry took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Jons, before turning to Sansa.  

 

“May I at least say something before I have to do what I need to do?”  

 

“Of course.”  Sansa felt tears come, but refused to let them fall.  Gendry took a step forward before kneeling in front Ned.  He reached out taking his hand in his, a smile on his face.  Wider then anyone thought possible.  

 

“If I had known you existed, I would have traveled to the ends of the earth to find you.  I would have given up everything. And no matter what you hear from anyone, even me, know this.  You were made with love and are loved.” Ned smiled, reaching out to give him a tentative hug.  

 

“Thank you.”  He whispers. Gendry takes a moment before standing up and turning to the Queen of the North.  

 

“I’ll do it.  But not for you or the Starks, or the bloody North.  I’m doing it for him.” Bowing he quickly left, feeling his heart break.  

 

“He’s too good for this world.”  Sansa whispered. Holding her arms open, Ned ran into them hugging his mother.  

 

* * *

 

 

The Queen of the North stood in front of all her court.  The head of each household of the North was there, standing and waiting for news.  Jon, Arya, and Gendry stood to the side, as observers and not apart of her court. Her direwolf crown sat on her head, her dress grey and snow.  

 

“Today my Lords and Ladies.”  She kept her chin up, her head held high, a smile so beautiful.  “My father, Lord Eddard Stark, always told me, a Stark must always be in Winterfell.  For the North is not safe without a Stark to help protect it. Once my reign has ended, a Stark will be in winterfell.  My son, Eddard Robb Snow is a snow no longer. He is from this day forth a Stark. He will be Eddard Robb Stark the first of his name!”  Cheers rang out among the her country men. Sansa smiled down at her son, who smiled up at her. Turning to him, she held out a ring for him.  “Let this ring stand as a symbol for your future and your commitment to the North.”   

 

“I accept my Queen.”  He bowed, taking the ring.  Placing it on his finger, more cheers erupted.  Chanting of the Queen of the North started, but were soon quieted the moment the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch and Lord Bartartheon of Storms End walked out.  They kneeled to both of them.  

 

“The Six Kingdoms is here to congratulate the Queen of the North on finding her Successor.”  Jon spoke first. Gendry took in a deep breath.  

 

“My our alliance to the North remain for many years to come.  Congratulations, your highness.” Both stood, bowing once more.  Sansa smiled at Jon, a future both knew was to be one of peace.  

 

* * *

 

Sansa stood underneath the red leaves with Arya.  Jon entered with Ned following behind him.  

 

“Come to see me off one last time?”  Arya joked to her brother.  

 

“As I remember it, I was the one leaving.”  Jon smiled ruffing her hair.  

 

“Well Black was always your color.”  She smiled, looking over at her stone faced sister.   “Sansa, I won’t stay gone long this time. And once I come back, I don’t plan on leaving Westeros again.”   Sansa wrapped her arms around herself tighter.    
  


“Of to see whats West of Westeros again?”  He asked.  

 

“Shes going to face the God of Death in Braavos.  Like an Idiot.” Arya smiled at her sister.  

 

“I have business I must finish there before I come back for good.  I promise.” Sansa hugged her sister. Thinking how this might be the last time she saw her, just like when she left to go searching for worlds unknown.  

 

“Where did Gendry get off to?”  Arya gave Jon a sad smile.  

 

“Gone.  Left late last night.  I promised I would write this time.  Though I’m unsure if he will get my letters from Braavos.”  Arya gripped Sansa’s hand. Turning to ruffled Ned’s hair.  

 

“You listen to your mother alright?  When I get back, I want to see how big and strong my nephew gets.”  Ned gave her a smile, nodding. “Walk me to the gate?” Ned takes her hand, exiting the Godswoods leaving Sansa and Jon alone.  Sansa sniffled, holding in her tears. Jon walked over to her, wrapping her in a hug.  

 

“I don’t want you to leave again.”  

 

“I don’t want to either.”  He Sighed. “But we both know I have to.”  Looking behind her, he saw no one, before placing a sweet gentle kiss.  Her tears falling. She felt happy in this small moment, before he pulled away.  

 

“I can’t see you off, not again.”  He nodded, kissing her forehead before leaving the Godswoods.  Sansa hadn’t realized she was still standing under the tree until Ned came up and pulled on her sleeve.  “They are gone?” She asks, looking at the face in the trunk.  

 

“They are.”  He looks as well, realizing that all his ancestors at one point looked at the red barked tears.  “Does this make me man know?” Sansa smiled, reaching down and taking his hand.  

 

“It makes you a Direwolf.”  Her shoulders back and squared, ready to face the challenges ahead.  


	6. The Final Raven

The Lord Commander of the Nights Watch sat behind his desk.  Letters had been pouring in about the raiders and the news from Kings Landing.  It had been almost two long years since the announcement of the Future King of the North.  It was recorded that once the boy turns Six and Ten he was to make his way South to visit with their allies.  A possible betrothal was in the air, but to who, that was a question he did not know how to answer. 

 

There was a knock on his door that brought him out of the world of the South.  

 

“Come in!”  He rang. The Little boy from North of the Wall had grown much since he came here, a boy no longer.  He stood tall and a sword at his hip. Though still to young to be the raiders, he was learning everyday from Jon.  

 

“Two New Ravens my lord commander.”  Taking the scrolls, he recognized Bran’s seal the moment and opened it quickly.  

 

_ Jon,  _

_ Congratulations _

_ Bran Stark _

 

Jon Looked at it confused.  Bran has never once addressed him by his name, before nor has he ever signed it Bran Stark.  

 

“Was there news from Winterfell?”  The Young man smiled, nodding to the other letter.  Quickly opening it, his smile only ever grew with each word.  

 

_ Dear Lord Commander,  _

_ Ned grows each and every day, hoping to be strong and brave like his Uncle Rob and his Grandfather.  He speaks about wanting to visit you almost daily now. But his time has been taking over by his little sister.  Her dark grey eyes almost look as if they were peering into our souls. I wish that once she can, she meet all her family, including her cousin Jon. _

_ Lady of Winterfell _

 

Jon quickly picked up his quill, a smile wider than anyone had ever seen on his face before  Jon couldn’t write fast enough with the words he wanted to say. 

 

**THE END**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Thank you all for reading, and enjoying my story.  This all came from a weird dream I had about what if Gendry and Arya had a baby?  What would happen or do? An as a true Jonsa (a Queen of the North) fan, I never could leave them out of things ^_^  I hope you’ve enjoyed it and I look forward to showing my improvement with other works in the future!  
> 
> Thank you for reading!  


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